And to the Lion came, full lowly creeping, With fained face, and watrie eyne halfe weeping,

T'excuse his former treason and abusion, And turning all unto the Apes confusion: Nath'les the royall beast forbore beleeving, But bad him stay at ease till further preeving.

Then when he saw no entrance to him graunted,

Roaring yet lowder, that all harts it daunted,

Upon those gates with force he fiercely flewe,

And, rending them in pieces, felly slewe Those warders strange, and all that els he met.

1371

But th' Ape, still flying, he no where might get:

From rowme to rowme, from beame to beame he fled,

All breathles, and for feare now almost ded:

Yet him at last the Lyon spide, and caught, And forth with shame unto his judgement brought.

Then all the beasts he causd' assembled

bee,

To heare their doome, and sad ensample

see:

The Foxe, first author of that treacherie, He did uncase, and then away let flie. 1380 But th' Apes long taile (which then he had) he quight

Cut off, and both eares pared of their hight; Since which, all apes but halfe their eares have left,

And of their tailes are utterlie bereft.

So Mother Hubberd her discourse did end:

Which pardon me, if I amisse have pend, For weake was my remembrance it to hold, And bad her tongue, that it so bluntly

tolde.

FINIS.

RUINES OF ROME

BY BELLAY

[The Songe of Du Bellay, of which the 'Visions of Bellay' are a rendering, forms a kind of appendix to his Antiquitez de Rome. Spenser, having had his attention directed to the former, would naturally read also the latter: the result was this other translation, 'Ruins of Rome.' It is difficult to believe that this work is not also of his university days. In the 'Envoy,' to be sure, he refers to the Sepmaine of Du Bartas, first published in 1578, but the 'Envoy,' or that part of it, may very well be an afterthought. Both the weight of antecedent probability and the evidence of style would place the translation proper with the two earliest series of visions,' those of Bellay and of Petrarch. They are all three much of a piece. As translations in the larger sense, though often resourceful and apt, they can hardly be said to foretell the rare felicity of his later renderings from Tasso. As poetic exercises, however, they show at least the rudiments of that copious ease which is the mark of his maturer style.]

I

YE heavenly spirites, whose ashie cinders lie Under deep ruines, with huge walls opprest,

But not your praise, the which shall never

die,

Through your faire verses, ne in ashes rest;
If so be shrilling voyce of wight alive
May reach from hence to depth of darkest
hell,

Then let those deep abysses open rive,
That ye may understand my shreiking yell.
Thrice having seene, under the heavens
veale,

Your toombs devoted compasse over all,
Thrice unto you with lowd voyce I appeale,
And for your antique furie here doo call,

The whiles that I with sacred horror sing Your glorie, fairest of all earthly thing.

II

Great Babylon her haughtie walls will praise, And sharped steeples high shot up in ayre; Greece will the olde Ephesian buildings

blaze;

And Nylus nurslings their pyramides faire; The same yet vaunting Greece will tell the

storie

Of Joves great image in Olympus placed;

Mausolus worke will be the Carians glorie; And Crete will boast the Labyrinth, now raced;

The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth
The great colosse, erect to Memorie;
And what els in the world is of like worth,
Some greater learned wit will magnifie.

But I will sing above all moniments Seven Romane hils, the worlds seven wonderments.

III

Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome here seekest,

And nought of Rome in Rome perceiv'st at all,

These same olde walls, olde arches, which thou seest,

Olde palaces, is that which Rome men call. Behold what wreake, what ruine, and what

wast,

And how that she, which with her mightie powre

Tam'd all the world, hath tam'd herselfe at last,

The pray of Time, which all things doth devowre.

Rome now of Rome is th' onely funerall, And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie; Ne ought save Tyber hastning to his fall Remaines of all: O worlds inconstancie!

That which is firme doth flit and fall away, And that is flitting doth abide and stay.

IV

She, whose high top above the starres did

sore,

One foote on Thetis, th' other on the Morning,

One hand on Scythia, th' other on the More, Both heaven and earth in roundnesse compassing,

Jove, fearing least, if she should greater growe,

The old giants should once againe uprise, Her whelm'd with hills, these seven hils, which be nowe

Tombes of her greatnes, which did threate the skies:

Upon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal,
Upon her bellie th' antique Palatine,
Upon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal,
On her left hand the noysome Esquiline,
And Cælian on the right; but both her feete
Mount Viminal and Aventine doo meete.

Or why were not these Romane palaces Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong?

I say not, as the common voyce doth say, That all things which beneath the moone have being

Are temporall, and subject to decay:
But I say rather, though not all agreeing
With some that weene the contrarie in
thought,

That all this whole shall one day come to nought.

X

As that brave sonne of Aeson, which by charmes

Atcheiv'd the golden fleece in Colchid land, Out of the earth engendred men of armes Of dragons teeth, sowne in the sacred sand; So this brave towne, that in her youthlie daies

An hydra was of warriours glorious,

Did fill with her renowmed nourslings praise

The firie sunnes both one and other hous: But they at last, there being then not living An Hercules, so ranke seed to represse, Emongst themselves with cruell furie striving,

Mow'd downe themselves with slaughter mercilesse;

Renewing in themselves that rage unkinde,

Which whilom did those earthborn brethren blinde.